


Sparring Flirtations

by McGinnisINC



Series: Love Doctor [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 18:31:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6205966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McGinnisINC/pseuds/McGinnisINC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot. Leonard Snart is an unrepentant flirt, even when he's throwing punches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparring Flirtations

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not have fallen down the DC hole and inadvertently fallen for Captain Cold. Oops.  
> Furthermore, check out my tumblr page - url is captcold1shots. I will post shorter one-shots and will take requests for Captain Cold themed one-shots. Open to all pairings.

Her foot slipped in her own sweat and for a moment she flailed. 

“Why are you barefoot?” Len asked. She expected him to look down but his eyes stayed fixed on her. Why couldn’t she land at least one hit?

“Sara works out barefoot,” she explained. 

“Sara is a merciless, highly trained assassin,” Len replied. “She can train barefoot without slipping and sliding.” He drew the last word out with a distinct vocal fry and nodded down to her foot.

It was the best opening she had.

Her arm shot out in a swift uppercut – and was deflected with such ease Len might as well have been batting away some smoke. 

“Tsk, tsk,” he scolded. “Thought I was distracted, huh?”

“Hoping,” she shot back. 

“There are better ways to distract me, sweetheart,” Len purred. “Off the top of my head I can think of quite a few possible… options.” He sidestepped and she almost forgot to follow. 

“Stop it – now you’re trying to distract me.” He sidestepped again and this time she matched the movement, keeping him square in front of her.

His gaze crinkled up as a slick smile slid across his face. “Hardly my fault you’re so distract-able.” He leaned back in a feigned show of winding up but she wasn’t fooled. She shifted her feet and – turns out he wasn’t feigning anything. Len thrust forward with a tight punch and she barely stumbled backward to avoid it. Her foot slipped again and she stumbled out of the way of another attack. 

“Don’t,” Len huffed, jabbing again. “Break,” she pivoted back to avoid the fist. “Form,” he finished in a hiss just as her back pressed against the ship’s wall. She thought he would back off now that she was cornered but instead he took that final step forward and pressed the full length of his body against her. “You broke form,” he accused – a light whisper in her ear as his arms walled her in – one black thermal-shirt clad forearm on either side of her head.

She shivered. 

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“Evaporation is a cooling process,” she murmured, mostly because she was at a loss for words. Which was a common occurrence when Len was around. 

Since she boarded this space/time ship, words had some trouble exiting her mouth in Len’s presence – or worse, sometimes they couldn’t help but fall out. She was a grown ass woman – had lived, had loved, had lost, had developed some weird-ass powers along the way. Surely, this crook should not be affecting her this way.

“Why’s that?” Len cocked his head like he was actually interested, but she saw the glint in his eye. The bastard knew exactly the kind of affect he was having on her. 

“I forget.”

That sly smile tugged his lips upwards but failed to expose his teeth. What a shame, she briefly thought. He had such nice white teeth. She was wondering what kind of toothpaste he used when his body grinded up against hers for just a moment and then suddenly he was taking large steps backwards. His arms came back up and he waited for her to catch her breath.

She knew her cheeks were on fire. She knew her nipples were probably pressing up against her sports bar and thin tank top. She knew he was amused by all of the above.

“I’m going to wipe that smile off your face,” she promised. 

“Not with your fists, you’re not,” he shot back. He didn’t wink but his eyes slid up her body and he just looked at her from under the shadow of his lashes. So, it had basically the same affect. 

Forcing her head clear, she slid into the fighting stance Len had initially placed her in – feet shoulder with the part, bent at the knees, ready to spring. Without breaking concentration, she approached him – fists up and ready. 

Her first punch didn’t land. Neither did the second, the third or the fourth. The way his eyes followed her, she knew he could do more than just avoid her assault – she had seen him spar with Sara before. Sara had kicked his ass. Sara had handed him his ass and when she realized she had an audience, Sara had winked at her. So, she knew that he should be able to block her punches and return fire. The fact that he was taking it easy on her was obnoxious but part of her was grateful. This was only the second time she had tried to spar and she didn’t want to be beaten into the pavement too soon.

“You need to focus,” he finally sighed. Apparently the teasing time was over. 

“Oh?” she scoffed back, dropping her arms. “I didn’t realize. I’ll try harder.”

He rolled his eyes at her sarcasm, but his smile made a brief appearance. “Tell me – why didn’t you ask Sara to teach you to fight?” At her hesitation, he followed up with, “Don’t get me wrong. It brings a special twinkle to my eye to watch the distinguished doctor blush like a schoolgirl. And watching your sweaty tank top cling in all the right places is just an added bonus – but Sara is definitely the better fighter.”

“Honestly?” 

“No, lie to me,” he drawled. 

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “She flew off the handle with Kendra. Something about a side effect of being resurrected. If she flew off the handle with me – well, I’d survive, duh, but she doesn’t need that on her conscience right now, you know?”

Len nodded soberly. There was a brief moment where the two of them just stood in sweaty silence, both lost in worried thoughts for their troubled teammate. It seemed Len’s thoughts ran a little deeper than hers though, because she took the moment to yank her arm back and let a punch fly.

It was a weak punch. She hadn’t put her body weight into it the way that Len had taught her but it caught him on the jaw and made him at least take a step back. She didn’t realize how bad of a punch it was until his head came back down and he had a big smile – with teeth and everything – stretching across his face. 

“Tsk, tsk,” he repeated. “What did I say?”

“Body weight,” she muttered, this time winding up for a punch with her body weight. This one, she aimed at his midsection. She was at least fast enough that he had to block instead of dodge. 

When she landed a second punch about ten minutes later, Len chuckled deeply, rubbing the sting out of his cheek. “Let’s add something more to the mix, shall we?”

“What’s that?”

“I think now I’ll hit back.” 

“You’ve already tried to hit me,” she reminded him.

“No,” he smirked. “I wasn’t trying that time.”

She frowned but nodded, perhaps a little reluctantly. She trusted him. And it’s not like he could accidently kill her. Just… hurt her for a little bit. Taking a deep breath, she launched another punch.

He dodged, she threw another. He blocked, she threw another. He caught her wrist and yanked her in a small circle. She stumbled a little and fell into him. Len’s arm came around her waist just long enough for him to joke, “I hope you’re not falling for me.” Then he released her, yanked her wrist again to spin her away from him.

There. Perfect opportunity. He expected her to be distracted – between his words, the feel of his body, and the spinning. Instead, she quickly steadied herself and lashed out. It was the perfect punch. She watched it as though it wasn’t her arm, her hand. It sailed perfectly and made a noise against Len’s face. She wouldn’t have thought the noise would be so satisfying but it was. Len staggered back for only a moment and then he moved faster than she could keep up with.

His arm shot out and detachedly she wondered why he was trying to block her attack – it had already happened, it was too late. It wasn’t until the backhand cracked across her face that it registered – it wasn’t a block. 

Embarrassingly, her vision clouded and her body crumpled. She’d lived through worse. Her powers allowed her to survive much worse. But she hadn’t actually been hit before. It didn’t hurt so much as… shock her. 

“Fuck,” Len spat. 

From on the floor, she wondered why he was cursing his own injury. Delayed reaction, maybe? But her vision cleared and she blinked up at him. He was running his hand back and forth against his skull in a gesture she had never seen him make. Had she ever seen him mess with his hair? Had she ever seen him make such a sloppy gesture? Usually he was so precise. This didn’t make sense. 

“You okay?” he asked, leaning down and offering her a hand. She took it and he pulled her up but his touch didn’t linger. In fact, he took a huge step back like he didn’t want to be within an arm’s reach of her. 

She forced her head up and down. “I’m fine,” she assured him. Her fingers reached up to the cheek in question. It was a little sore but she knew the bruise would develop and fade before the conversation about it was over. She smiled. “You did say it was time to add more to the mix.”

“This was a mistake,” he snapped and stalked off. 

She watched him leave, reaching up to touch her cheek again. True to her prediction, the area wasn’t even tender anymore. She doubted she had a mark. With a deep sigh, she turned and caught sight of an audience member. 

“Hey Jax,” she greeted. “Did you, uh, did you see that?”

“Did I see Snart knock you on your ass? Yeah.” He crossed his arms. “Did I see him freak out and peace out? Yeah.”

“We were just sparring,” she muttered. 

Jax shrugged and pointedly looked away. Instantly, her suspicions were raised. She walked over to him and cocked her head. 

“What do you know?” she asked.

“Eh,” Jax hesitated. Under her critical gaze, he finally let out a sharp breath. “Snart tried to change his past and dragged me and the pyro along for the trip. I guess his dad used to hit him.”

“You think…?” she began.

“… that backhanding you maybe didn’t sit well with him for that reason? Yeah,” Jax finished. 

She nodded slowly and made a mental note to talk to him in private the next chance she got. He needed to know she was fine. With that in mind, she said goodbye to Jax and went to shower. 

Later, when Rip called the team together for a quick meeting, her eyes found Len. He was hanging back, watching the team from a distance and when he thought she wasn’t looking, his eyes lingered on her healed cheek. For someone famously cool – his gaze was heated.


End file.
